Here is Hope

Years after we began watching the Easter sunrise at the local park with our littles, we felt the tradition was incomplete. This breathed life into a new idea of a sunset hike on Good Friday. As we discussed our options, our son-in-law mentioned a place we had never heard of called ‘Dobbins lookout’ though he called it 'Dobbin's make-out'. A new landing place for us to watch the sunset. He hinted at the journey as more of a drive up the mountain than a hike. This appealed to me greatly, and so we decided to give this new idea a whirl. My expectations grew leading up to the evening. I began to imagine sitting atop a beautiful vista with the kids gathered ‘round, watching a stunning sun set and dive gently into the silent abyss of evening. This would be punctuated with a little talk of the ‘Friday Jesus’ foreshadowing our ‘Sunday Jesus’ sunrise coming later that weekend.

While our drive was exactly what I’d hoped for, a drive, my dreams quickly fell apart as we pulled into the parking area. The scene wasn’t quite as romantic as I had envisioned. It was crowded. Parking was at a premium and people were everywhere. It seemed that they were there for many purposes that were not ‘Good Friday’. Apparently, this is a local weekend gathering spot for all of the weekend celebrators in their many forms. The noise of revving motorcycles and hollering teenagers drowned out the peaceful illusions I had planted in my mind. We quickly ate our sub sandwiches, all while a mouse scurried by our feet. How poetic! We then tried to find a little spot to gather the group and maybe salvage a moment to watch the sunset, all while keeping a mischievous Cal from falling off a cliff. It felt so disappointing. The foregone conclusion of the sun setting did however deliver as promised and the unmistakable chill and darkness appeared immediately after. The lights of the city began to appear down below highlighting a city marching along with their evening with little thought to the finality of the scene. This had been a one hit wander. A one time tradition for sure.

We enjoyed the rest of the weekend with some egg coloring, Easter basket hunting and other family events. And sure enough without missing a beat, time marched forward and gave way to our beautiful Easter sunrise at the park. Each year it feels earlier and earlier. Each year it feels colder and colder. Each year, though my favorite tradition, I wrestle in my warm bed with the ‘why’ of it all. 

We arrived at the park in pajamas with blankets, barely awake and shivering. We huddled really close in silence for warmth and we watched patiently, waiting for the sun to make its glorious appearance as it had every day of our lives thus far. Curiously though, as if we had never seen a sunrise before, the kids began saying, “Is that it?” and “Did we miss it?” The light of the dawn had become so bright that it seemed as if the sun had risen without our awareness. But soon the warmth began to take over and then, within seconds and unmistakably, the poetically beautiful blue sky began inscribing its golden signature, once again highlighting its promise:

I will rise again every day. Every day. Every day. I promise!

My mind flashed immediately back to that disappointing Friday night. A Friday night that ended in an assurance that things don’t always go as planned. Things end. Sorrow and disappointment in all of its devastating forms are unavoidable. Life will happen the way it’s going to happen with or without our permission. The sun will set for all of us. 

But the glorious truth witnessed again to me through the rising of that morning sun and has been every day since is that,

Hope is a promise, not a wish.

Hope's signature has been signed, sealed and delivered.

Hope is a limitless and everlasting resource and can be found everywhere.

And it is delivered with a simple invitation.

Look for it.

Reach for it.

Believe in it. 

And offer it.

In these, you will never be disappointed!